There Is Hope Yet - A Tale of Redemption
by Wollemia nobilis
Summary: I tried to imagine a world without John Watson. - Alternate spelling of characters and places is on purpose. - Will Sherloc Holmes and Jon Whatson find and love each other?
1. Obviously Not This Jon

**Note:** I don't own any of the characters from the Sherlock BBC television series, nor any of the characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. - I hope the Sherloc and Jon in this story are different enough so it is obvious that they are not our beloved Sherlock and John.

 **Trigger warning:** please don't read if you find the following triggering, or are bothered by: touching without asking permission, attempts at emotional and sexual manipulation, disrespect.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Obviously Not This Jon**

"Hey, Loc, pass me the mustard," Jon asked over the kitchen table, his mouth full, chewing a hot dog.

Sherloc blinked at his flatmate. No "please", again. Noticing Jon's lack of basic manners he'd paid attention and checked whether he behaved like this also around other people, but, no, it was only around Sherloc, and only when the two of them were alone. Of course he'd mentioned that "please" and "thank you" were common courtesies, but there was no change.

He sighed, reached for the requested bottle, passed it. _Why_ was he putting up with this? Yes, he had been looking for a flatmate, and initially Jon seemed quite suited, even helping him with cases, his medical expertise definitely an asset. But six weeks into their association he began to question the status quo.

ooo

What had attracted Sherloc to Jon was that not only was he intelligent and a competent GP, he also found his well formed body pretty arousing to look at. Even though professionally he worked as a brilliant consulting detective, privately he had only had two relationships with men. They lasted two and five weeks, respectively. Both had ended when he'd refused to let them put their private parts into his anus, and they didn't want his in theirs.

Although Jon constantly sought the company of women, occasionally brought one-night-stands to 221B Bäcker Street - which Sherloc had explicitly asked him not to do - it was clear as daylight that Jon was really bisexual. His denial at Angelio's that he was interested in Sherloc was less than convincing, his long gazes and lip licking spoke otherwise.

Sherloc had felt flattered. As the weeks passed, not only did he find Jon intriguing and fascinating, but he also found himself increasingly sexually attracted to him. Apparently Jon noticed. He'd sit closer on the couch, touch Sherloc's hand or arm, or hip, especially in the kitchen. Sometimes he'd use an excuse to press against Sherloc physically. He never asked permission.

Two nights ago, in the kitchen, Sherloc thought he should set the record straight. "Jon, you know that I'm homosexual, right?"

"Yeah, I thought so. It's all okay. An orgasm's an orgasm. I don't care who I come with!"

Sherloc's eyebrows rose at the bluntness. It sounded careless indeed. Was Jon on a quest to have more sex in order to have more orgasms, or did he want a relationship, Sherlock wondered.

"What about love, having a relationship?" he asked, ever the romantic.

"Sex _is_ having a 'loving' relationship, don't you think?" Jon winked at him.

They seemed to be interpreting the word "relationship" differently.

"What about you?" Jon moved closer. "Do _you_ want to have sex with me? I bet you want to...," he said in a sultry voice, breathing hot on the side of Sherloc's neck and placing his hand on his crotch.

Sherloc hissed, then swallowed, as his erection grew. Tempting as Jon's suggestion was, he knew he was looking for a relationship, not only sex.

"Remove your hand from my crotch, Jon," he said firmly, adding, "Don't touch me in a sexual way again!"

Jon looked surprised and angry, indicating that he was hardly ever turned down. He gave Sherloc's hard penis a lingering squeeze before letting go.

"I'll get you begging yet, you'll see," he bit out, sounding like a trophy hunter planning to chase down his intended prey.

Sherloc retreated to his bedroom. Eventually he mentally gave in to temptation and masturbated allowing himself this one time to imagine hot sex with Jon.

ooo

Jon did not try to touch Sherloc again after he had told him off. Following their earlier hot dog supper Sherloc had been called to have a look at a crime scene. He did feel relieved that Jon said he couldn't come along because he needed to rest for his shift the next day.

Less than ninety minutes later Sherloc was back. To his shock, entering the living room, he saw Jon kneeling in front of the couch, trousers and pants off, having intercourse with a naked woman sat with legs spread apart on said couch. Neither of them noticed him until he pointedly cleared his throat after five seconds.

Jon casually glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Loc, didn't expect you back yet! Never mind... come join us! I really want you to try this pussy," he bent forward licked the woman's tit, at which she moaned loader. "Be a good boy! I'll fuck you afterwards real good..." He turned again, winked at Sherloc before focussing his attention back on the woman.

Sherloc cringed, could hardly believe he was hearing this. He was pretty sure Jon would not talk like this in front of a female he was romantically interested in, so this was a prostitute then! Having made up his mind, in a few strides he was by the couch, ignoring the woman, tapped Jon firmly on the shoulder.

"Your behavior and suggestions are unacceptable! I'm homosexual and will _not_ have sex with a woman! - You are leaving! When I come back in two hours you and your belongings will be gone from this flat! If not, I will call Myckroft, and you _will_ be removed very shortly after that!"

At the mention of Myckroft's name he saw Jon's face fall. In this case, he had to admit, it was good to have an influential, capable, big brother after all. With that he left the apartment. This was very likely the last time he saw Jon.

ooo

When Sherloc returned exactly two hours later the prostitute and Jon were gone. He checked the bedroom upstairs. An open drawer here, dropped hangers there spoke of a hurried departure. He breathed a sigh of relief while simultaneously feeling a twinge of sadness that he was left without a flatmate.

Even though it was late already he made himself a cup of tea which he sipped sitting in his armchair. He'd give the couch a good wipe down with a disinfectant in the morning.

A warm eight minute shower calmed and relaxed him further. He retired to his bed, pulled the duvet snug around him. After the light was turned out he looked up in the dark at the ceiling for a while, hoping that somewhere on this planet or in this galaxy a suitable flatmate and/or life partner existed for him, because it was obviously not this Jon.


	2. I see The Light

**Trigger warning** : The first part of this chapter contains a brief description of physical assault! Please do not read if this bothers you.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: I see The Light**

Jon did not waste another thought on Sherloc. Best not to attract Myckroft Holmes's ire. Instead, his philandering, promiscuous-with-both-sexes ways, however, caught up with him not too long after: He was at a party, drinking, flirting with an attractively athletic young man, who did mention the fact he had a boyfriend, he was currently not home.

"Oh, come on, he won't mind... might even enjoy watching...," Jon purred into his ear suggestively, for which he had to stand on his toes, while feeling him up.

"Well, maybe you're right..." the young man replied, becoming more amenable to Jon's advances. One thing led to another, as these things tend to go, with them winding up in the master bedroom on the second floor. Jon had already pulled the young man's tight trousers and pants down. Kneeling in front of him, the smell of his pubic area made him salivate. He wondered what he would taste like, his erect penis only 2 cm from Jon's mouth. His lips never touched his glans because the bedroom door opened with a loud bang.

"Michael!" a deep voice called in alarm. As Jon looked over his shoulder, surprised, he was already being yanked up by his hair, which hurt.

"Ow! Let go of me! We didn't do anything," he protested, catching a glimpse of his attacker - a tall, tanned, very muscled middle-aged man, the bodybuilding type - in one of the bedroom mirrors.

"I heard otherwise, downstairs - which is where you're going - you were all over him, _pig_!" the man shouted as he dragged Jon along the hallway, then gave him an angry push down the stairs. The tumbling hurt, he heard something crack, banged his head on the landing. Fury laden footsteps followed.

"This bastard molested my boyfriend," was announced. "I'll teach him a lesson," the bodybuilding-type-boyfriend bellowed and started to kick him.

By now the guests of the party had gathered to watch the spectacle, a few, who recognized Jon as being the one who had philandered with their respective partners as well, joined in the kicking, hitting, spitting, and throwing insults.

The last thing Jon remembered was the front door being opened and several people participating in throwing him down another set of stairs. The impact with the pavement rendered him unconscious. A passer-by alerted police, provided first aid until an ambulance arrived a short time later. Jon was taken to the nearest hospital. Among his injuries, he had a cracked skull.

ooo

As is usually the case, Jon was not aware that he was unconscious for several days, nor that, as part of their investigation, police contacted Sherloc to ask about Jon's character, because that was the address he lived at before his current one. Sherloc told them, truthfully, he asked Jon to move out, because of incompatibility. He asked, but for privacy reasons police couldn't comment on what exactly had happened. Sherloc assumed that the recent newspaper article about a man getting so severely beaten up at a house party that he was left in critical condition was referring to Jon.

 _Not my business..._

ooo

When they realized Jon had woken up, a nurse came by to check on him. She informed him where he was and why, explained the extent of his injuries, which, being a doctor himself, he understood, asked what he remembered of the events leading up to his hospital admission. He did remember getting beaten up by several people and the angry hurtful words they had called him - it had been humiliating. They had called his workplace on his behalf, police would stop by some time to get his statement. Certainly no one else would come visit him. Feeling sorry for himself would not help him recover...

There were two things, Jon deemed them too fantastic to relate to others, he remembered from the time of his having been unconscious: First, in a newspaper article he saw the names Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Moriarty, mentioned. Second, he saw a scene so vivid, so full of emotion, as if he was right there! He - the man looked exactly like himself, yet the emotions this man experienced were so different from anything he had ever felt - was looking up at the roof of a multi-story building where a tall man stood right on the edge. They both had a cell phone pressed to their ear.

"Goodbye, John..." he heard, still looking up, comprehension dawning... the love this man on the roof had for the other on the ground and his sadness were so palpably evident in his voice...

"No, don't. Fuck. _Sherlock!_ " he heard himself shout, as he saw Sherlock jump and fall. It felt like he was out of his body, surreal, as he tried to reach him, saw the blood from his head, touched him, he couldn't feel a heartbeat. Then they were separated... "Ohm, Jesus, no... God, no. - Oh, God."

Jon hardly noticed the throbbing pain in his head, he was too engrossed in trying to understand what he "saw". Had this happened in a dream? It felt so real. The feelings he had been "in touch with", though, were what really got him! He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that that John loved that Sherlock, and that Sherlock loved that John, yet neither of them had, until that point, told the other. There was also a component of mutual appreciation and respect for the other. And then there was this enormously great sense of shock and sadness and grief and pain as he felt John's heartache as his own. - It was a tragedy!

He dozed off until two policemen came by a few hours later. He gave his statement, they asked whether he wanted to press charges.

"No, I'll focus on trying to heal, to get better, so I can get on with my life. I want to put this behind me."

"Very well," they said, took their notes, then wished him the best.

ooo

The couple of weeks Jon was in hospital he couldn't help think of that John and that Sherlock off and on. They were different from Jon and Sherloc here, even though they looked the same. That John was loyal, a good man, a fierce defender of Sherlock. And Sherlock brilliant, trusting John with his being and life. Their deep connection was inspiring to Jon. If _they_ had it _there_ , maybe one day he and Sherloc could also love each other like that _here_. Spoken, open, mutual. But how?

Jon began thinking about changing his life, leave his promiscuous philandering ways, for one, behind. Once he was out of hospital, recovered from his injuries, back to work, he would have to try to contact Sherloc to see whether he would give him another chance. If asked why he should, Jon would not mention that he saw and felt the love between Sherlock and John, while having been unconscious. Would anybody believe him if he did? Would Sherloc? Eventually he prayed that he would be able to love like John.

ooo


	3. Not yet

**Chapter 3: Not yet**

Two weeks later Jon was released from hospital. No one had paid him a visit. Only the hospital chaplain had stopped by briefly, prayed for his recovery. After another ten days at home and a couple of physiotherapy sessions later Jon was back at work.

Several months went by, he was starting to feel lonely. He had stopped going out except for occasionally meeting Staemford, the man who had introduced him to Sherloc, for a drink at the pub. They weren't really friends, just colleagues. Jon's life was a far cry from what he sometimes imagined and wished it could be. He was trying to hold on to hope.

"So, Sherloc," he asked Staemford one evening over a pint, "how is he?"

"I rarely see him. He seems fine, though."

"Does he ever mention me?"

"No."

"Somebody else is sharing the flat with him then?"

"Honestly, I don't know. He hasn't mentioned anything. Why?"

"Just wondering..."

Staemford did not know the circumstances under which Sherloc and Jon had parted ways. Of Jon's hospital stay he had heard only afterwards.

ooo

It was another boringboring day without a case, no distraction on the horizon. Sherloc paced the flat, soon he'd be putting bullet holes into the wall. He decided to take a bath instead, in case he had to go out. 20 minutes and 47 seconds later, just when he was done, there was a knock on the apartment door. _A client?!_ His landlady must have let somebody upstairs. Wearing only his dressing gown, barefoot, he plastered a fake smile on his face in anticipation, which he promptly dropped when he saw who the visitor was.

"Hello, Sherloc."

"I didn't expect to see you here. I must ask you to leave." Sherloc proceeded to close the door, but a foot was placed swiftly in the gap.

"Remove your foo _t_!"

"Sherloc,... may I please speak with you?"

 _Please?_ Sherloc narrowed his eyes, looked Jon over, detected the very faint scent of marijuana, there was even a resin stain on Jon's thumb and forefinger.

"Are you looking for a flatmate?"

"That is none of your concern."

"You're right, it is not. May I please speak with you?"

 _Again!_ "I can't let you in, sorry-not-sorry, of course!" Jon's apparently recent marijuana use, though, intrigued him. "I can meet you in five minutes at Spiddi's if that suits you."

"Thank you, I'll see you in five." Jon bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement, removed his foot, turned and went downstairs.

 _Thank you... What is going on?_ Jon's ability to now use basic manners around Sherloc was even more interesting than the marijuana use. Since he did not want to attract Jon's attention, for sure, he decided to dress down, so wore grubby jeans, a loose fitting grey t-shirt, grey sneakers, a really old bomber jacket and paint cap, with paint stains even.

He checked himself in the mirror: his clean shaven face and styled hair didn't really go with this outfit, maybe he shouldn't even have had a bath, certainly not brushed his teeth. But a former flatmate now using marijuana and manners, where before he had seemed incapable, were, in the absence of a more interesting case, sufficient grounds for him to investigate.

ooo

Outside 221B Jon was waiting in front of Spiddi's, he hadn't even gone in yet. He couldn't help smile at the clothes Sherloc chose to demonstrate that he was not interested in Jon, but kept quiet.

"After you," Sherloc pointed at the door. At the counter each paid for his coffee, separately, as was proper. They sat down, opposite each other, at one of the tables.

"Thank you for meeting me, Sherloc."

Sherloc just blinked. Two "please" and two "thank you" had not gotten him used to this change yet. He sighed. "What do you want to speak to me about?"

"I want and need to apologize to you: I treated you poorly, I disrespected you, I touched you inappropriately. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Sherloc blinked some more. No one had ever apologized to him in his whole life for anything! None of the kids at school that had called him "Freak!"... Finally he managed to raise his eyebrows.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked remembering the newspaper article about the man that had gotten beaten up very severely at a house party, he assumed that man had been Jon.

"Indeed, yes, I had a fractured skull. It's healed now, thanks for asking." Jon stared down at the table between them, he looked sad.

"Okay, I forgive you," Sherloc said in a rush. "That's it? Can I leave now?" forgetting that he had been curious to find out why Jon was using marijuana and manners.

"Please wait, I..." Jon didn't know what to say.

 _Please._ Sherloc closed his eyes. _Incredible!_

"Are you still high from the marijuana you recently used? Or coming down, is that why you look so sad? Why are you endangering your career? If there was random drug testing at your workplace you'd be found out."

"How...?" Jon looked a little alarmed because Sherloc was speaking not exactly quietly in a public place.

"I have a _very keen_ olfactory sense! I smelled it on you immediately. Also, there's resin stains on your thumb and forefinger." Sherloc looked pointedly at Jon's hand.

Jon pursed his lips. "It helps alleviate my feeling alone and bored," he answered honestly, put that telling hand down into his lap.

"You should stop, you know. Your work as a doctor requires you to be sober. Though I can sympathize about the boredom..." The bullet holes in the living room wall could attest to that.

They both sat quietly thinking for a minute. They had something in common.

"And why are you all of a sudden using manners around me?" Sherloc asked, puzzled.

"I respect, admire and appreciate you."

"Since when?! We shared an apartment for six weeks! I asked you to leave. I said I forgive you, I'm not going to bring it up. But... You've clearly changed since then. - What happened?"

Jon looked up, smiling sadly. "I can't say. - Yet. - I'm afraid you won't believe me."

 _A puzzle!_ "Try me."

"No."

"A hint?" Sherloc was getting excited.

"Please respect that I decline to answer your question of 'What happened?' at this time."

"Hmm," Sherloc pouted, not pleased to be refused an answer. "Are you going to tell me some other time?"

"Possibly. - Do you really _want_ to know?"

Sherloc sighed and thought about it. _Do I really want to know what happened that caused Jon Whatson to change so obviously and dramatically?_ It certainly was a fascinating question, the answer to which probably was equally or even more fascinating. After a few seconds he answered, "Yes."

Jon sighed, relieved. "Okay. - Will you give me a second chance?"

"Meaning...?" Sherloc's brows furrowed.

Jon turned his head in the direction of 221B briefly, then back, hinting.

Sherloc gave him a quizzical look for half a second, until he understood what Jon was asking. He had interviewed one other applicant after Jon had left, but that man lacked Jon's medical expertise and would therefore not be able to assist him with cases, which had definitely been of advantage.

"I can't let you move back in just like that, Jon," Sherloc said with the slightest hint of regret in his voice. He paused. "I'm not ruling it out completely. I trust you can understand that I'll have to do some inquiries first. But you're welcome to accompany me to a crime scene, if you want."

Jon nodded. "Sounds good. You'll give me a call then?" he asked getting up.

"Yes, I will." Sherloc got up as well.

"Thank you." Jon extended his hand.

Sherloc looked at it, then shook it. "Goodbye, Jon." He could need a flatmate that was able to help him with cases.

"I hope to see you again soon, Sherloc," Jon said softly, reminded of the other "Goodbye, John..." he had witnessed.

They parted.

ooo


	4. Second Chance

**Chapter 4: Second Chance**

Sherloc asked Jon along to three different crime scenes. Each time there were no marijuana resin stains on his fingers, he was polite, and his medical advice and views of certain topics were very helpful. In the time between those cases they had no contact.

After that, Sherloc stopped by Jon's workplace to inquire about his character, citing his application for flatmate-status. He was told Jon was a hard worker, polite, hands-on, honest, modest, with a measure of humor, always ready to jump in and help. When asked whether he had always been like that they declined to comment. Sherloc asked specifically whether they noticed if he had changed after his hospital stay. Since Sherloc knew of the hospital stay, they confirmed, yes he had. To sum it up, they thought he would be a reliable flatmate.

Then Sherloc called Myckroft, asked for a thorough background check of Dr. Jon Whatson. The report about when police was called to the scene where he had been severely beaten did not give a reason for the attack. He had not been in trouble with the law before and not after. He did not press charges. According to available records there was nothing extraordinary about him at all. Sherloc thanked his brother for the information.

Sherloc, however, viewed Jon as _very_ extraordinary for one specific reason: he had obviously changed. _Why?_ He decided to give him a second chance.

ooo

They got on fine as flatmates. Jon never made any sexual advances towards Sherloc. Aside from cases, life tended to be on the quiet side at 221B Bäcker Street. Living together like this, both of them were less bored. Jon did not go out to try to find a girlfriend or boyfriend, he appeared content to stay "home". Sherloc didn't mind, but did wonder why.

After a few months comfortably living together Sherloc considered Jon to be his friend, he trusted him. Up until now he had not had real friends, he lacked experience in the relationship department. One pleasant spring evening, he thought he should ask, to make sure he was not understanding it wrong.

"Jon, can I ask you something?" he ventured.

"Sure, go ahead," Jon replied, not looking up from the book he was reading.

"Are we friends? Sorry I have to ask," Sherloc felt a little out of his depth.

"I'm glad you're asking! Yes, we _are_ friends. No doubt about that. Got it? - It's alright, Sherloc. S'all good...," Jon said reassuringly looking up from his book.

Even to Sherloc his fondness of Sherloc was evident. He took a deep breath and blinked, because he had arrived at the point where he could not envision his life without Jon anymore.

ooo

In the weeks that followed Sherloc noticed Jon's physical attributes more. He found him quite attractive, yes, still, like when they had been flatmates before. He let his looks linger longer, on occasion found himself wishing he could touch various parts of his body. Like his hand, or his hair, or his bum, or his feet, or hold him close and feel... He realized at times he was daydreaming.

Daydreaming soon spilled over into real dreaming. When he woke up with an erection and cooling ejaculate on his belly one morning, his dream still fresh in his memory, it was obvious: he wanted Jon and himself to be more than friends.

He replaced the top sheet with a heavy sigh, then cleaned himself up in the bathroom. "Don't touch me in a sexual way again!" he had told Jon very firmly and vehemently back then. Was Jon still going by that? Was he attracted to Sherloc as well but holding back? Or not?

At Spiddi's Jon had said, "I respect you." Obviously he accepted and abided by Sherloc's past "no". Knowing Jon as he did now Sherloc knew it meant Jon would never touch him sexually until he gave him permission. There was no way around it, they would have to have another clarifying conversation about their relationship.

ooo

That morning Sherloc thoughtfully stirred his porridge. It had little apple bits in it to make it more appealing, the dusting of brown sugar had already been incorporated into the "glob". This, supposedly, represented a healthy breakfast. While Jon had many praiseworthy attributes, trying to get Sherloc to eat enough healthy food was further down on his list. He felt like rubbing his bare toes against Jon's socked ones but knew he should not touch him unasked. He needed to respect Jon as well, even though he had not told Sherloc not to touch him. The right thing was to ask first, to get permission. Did friends have to ask permission to rub toes? Relationship-talk, then, it was.

"Jon?"

"Yes, Sherloc?" Jon had already finished his porridge, was dressed in jeans and jumper, reading the newspaper.

"Should friends ask permission to rub toes? - I'd like to rub yours with mine under the table."

"I'm glad you're asking," Jon put the newspaper down. "As you know, in the past I often used to not ask." It was evident that he was not happy with himself to have been like that.

"Now I think it's always a good idea to ask permission first before one person touches another, even for friends. Sometimes _close_ friends allow platonic touching without asking. And persons that are intimate with each other should always make sure all touching is done in a safe, sane and consensual way. 'No' means _no_ , also for boyfriends, life-partners and lovers. There, now you know what I think of the topic... meaning, go ahead if you want to make foot contact under the table," Jon smiled softly.

Sherloc smiled, relieved. "Erm, what I said back then about not touching me sexually, I take it back. I wouldn't mind... if you did," Sherloc said as his toes made contact with Jon's sock-covered ones. "You could take your socks off...," he hinted.

"That's a good suggestion." Jon proceeded to take his socks off, then wriggled his toes inviting Sherloc's to touch his again. "Are you saying you want us to be more than friends?" he asked.

"Yes," Sherloc swallowed. "I find you _very_ attractive!"

Jon pulled out some papers from his jeans back pocket, slid them across the table. Sherloc unfolded the pages, read. They were the results of two STD checks Jon had requested. The first was dated just before he went back to work, the other from last week. Both showed that he was STD-free.

"I noticed how you were looking at me...," Jon explained. "I can be observant..."

"Hmm," Sherloc tapped his finger on the report with the earlier date, "this one is from many months ago, even before you asked to speak with me," he frowned.

"Yeah...," Jon didn't elaborate.

"Did you get checked before that?" Sherloc asked.

"No," was the short reply.

That Jon had himself checked for STDs after he left the hospital but before he went back to work, for Sherloc, indicated that whatever caused him to change must have happened around that time.

"I needed to know for my hopefully future partner. It's the responsible thing to do, Sherloc. The way I lived,... there were times I did not use protection!" he revealed.

"You haven't been with anybody since you live here, so you got checked again in anticipation of _us_? Why?"

Jon nodded. "I wanted to make double sure. If you're clean as well we can..."

Sherloc's eyes widened at Jon's suggestion.

"Right,... My STD check from several years ago was clean as well,... Do you want to see it? It's stashed somewhere...," Sherloc looked towards the living room. "I haven't been with anybody since then, I haven't used IV drugs. - You need to know, though, that at this time I do not tolerate being penetrated. So,... _please_ ," Sherloc remembered his manners, "do not even suggest, let alone try that."

Jon raised his eyebrows, "That's fine. Of course I respect that. I can go either way," his eyes smiled. "Thanks for letting me know!" He put his hands on top of the kitchen table, inviting Sherloc to give him his.

"If you ever change your mind, just let me know. We could start with kissing and cuddling...," Jon hinted.

Toe rubbing and hand stroking... Sherloc's porridge was abandoned in favor of his bedroom. ...

ooo


	5. Questions and Answers

**Chapter 5: Questions and Answers**

Sherloc didn't need cases to keep himself busy with like he used to. Being in love and intimate with Jon contributed to fulfilling him. He felt content. Simply lying in bed with Jon often was peaceful, because he knew he was in the right place at the right time with the right man.

When discussing what safety word to use they agreed on 'lemon', because it was not a word they used in casual conversation. Its connotations were: "Yellow like a warning sign, tastes unpleasant - Stop!" Easy to remember. A few weeks into their relationship as life-partners, neither of them had to use it yet.

Jon was a perceptive lover, not rough. Just because Sherloc refused to be penetrated by anything in any way didn't mean he didn't occasionally fantasize about being dominated by Jon, whom he trusted, just a little bit. He had asked Jon whether he would restrain him, or hit him, just a little bit. Jon refused adamantly!

"I don't understand why you refuse to restrain or hit me," Sherloc thought out loud. "It doesn't have to be tight, and it doesn't have to result in red skin, welts or bruising."

"It's called _con_ sensual sex, Sherloc, con meaning together, both partners have to agree. I'm _not_ agreeing!" Jon was starting to get upset. "You won't even let me lick your anus or insert one finger! Do you even know what it feels like to have your prostate stimulated? - Never mind, I didn't think so," he said on seeing Sherloc's raised eyebrows. "I don't sit here and ask you to let me penetrate you. Why do you not want to be penetrated anyways, can you answer that? - I'm going to the loo, we can continue talking when I'm back. - Do you want me to bring you something to eat or drink?" Jon offered.

Sherloc shook his head, watched Jon put on his dressing gown and disappear in the bathroom. He stretched out under the duvet, put his hands under his head and thought about what Jon had said and asked.

ooo

He understood the meaning of consensual. If Jon were so much as to touch his anus directly, he'd say "Lemon!" He got that. The way he imagined to be tied or hit, just a little bit, he didn't consider to be heavy bondage or beating. Since it wasn't, why was Jon so set against it?

He had noticed that Jon liked to cuddle, put his head on Sherloc's shoulder. Sometimes he'd place it deliberately on his chest. Also, - maybe Jon thought Sherloc wouldn't notice, but of course he did - quite often he took Sherloc's pulse unobtrusively after he had an orgasm. Why would he do that, take his pulse? Which was feeling Sherloc's heartbeat with his fingers... When he put his head on his chest, was it in order to listen to Sherloc's heart beat?

Given the opportunity, Jon also liked to feel, massage, knead his bum, always respecting that Sherloc did not want his anus touched. Getting his cheeks kissed tenderly could be arousing... Maybe not wanting to be penetrated had something to do with wanting to be in control? But he was willing to give up some control to Jon by willing to be restrained or hit, just a little bit,... His aversion didn't make sense to himself, he wasn't a psychologist.

He did know why he liked penetrating Jon. For one, this act was physically and mentally arousing, but second, it went deeper than that: He wanted to share himself physically with Jon in the deepest way possible that he could think of, which was to put his semen inside him. A gift of himself, to share, to be assimilated into his body, to become one. It was more than sex, he realized, for him it was spiritual. - He blinked.

Did Jon view anal intercourse with him the same way? Did he want to give him a gift of himself in the form of his semen put deep inside Sherloc? Would Sherloc accept this gift if he offered? Of course he would welcome and want it! Viewed this way, the thought of him being penetrated by Jon became arousing...

ooo

Jon came back from the bathroom, hung up his dressing gown. Lifting the corner of the duvet to lie down beside Sherloc, he noticed his hard-on. He smiled briefly, lay down, propped himself up on his elbow to look at Sherloc.

"What were you thinking about?" his eyes moved to the area where Sherloc's erection was under the duvet.

"The last thing I was thinking about was you giving me the gift of your semen deep inside me," Sherloc said sounding reverently. "Do you view anal intercourse with me like that? Is that what you want?"

Jon swallowed, began to get hard himself talking about this topic. "Erm, I hadn't really, so far. I was more thinking of that it can be pleasurable and certainly is intimate. - A gift? Yeah, that makes sense... It sounds soppy, romantic, and _deeeep_ ," Jon lowered his voice there. "Does that mean you want to try it some time?" His smile was soft and hopeful.

"Likely, yes. I'm surprised myself, given my previous unwillingness. Hmm..."

"Maybe it's a matter of perspective? Seeing it as receiving a gift helps you want it?" Jon raised his eyebrows in question.

"Looks like it," Sherloc propped himself also up on his elbow to face Jon. "Seeing how I'm willing to try something I didn't want before, will you ever restrain or hit me just a little bit?"

Jon's face took on a more serious expression. "I don't even like to talk about it. I don't know... Like, I assume you want me to do that cause you think _you'll_ find it arousing... but _I_ find that picture very disturbing. - Distressing would be the better word," he said after a brief pause. "Somehow I have this need to see you free and unhurt..."

"Hmm...," Sherloc mused, "can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I think you like to put your head on my chest sometimes to hear my heart beat, and sometimes you take my pulse after I come. You thought I wouldn't notice... Why is that?"

Jon swallowed. "Pardon?" Pretending he didn't understand the question wouldn't make it go away.

Sherloc looked at him puzzled. "You do it when you're relaxed, or after you've come already, so it's not about sexual pleasure for you. Did you do that with previous lovers as well? - Or is it just me?" he asked interpreting Jon's facial expressions. "I see..."

"What?"

"For some reason you have the need to know that my heart beats. Heartbeat equals life, ergo you have the need to reassure yourself that I _am_ alive. - Why?"

"I..."

"Is this connected to what caused you to change? Something happened when you were at the hospital? - At Spiddi's you said you were afraid I wouldn't believe you."

Jon pursed his lips, blinked. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Sherloc lay down, extended his arm towards Jon. "Lie down? You can put your head on my shoulder, or on my chest. I _will_ try to believe you. I promise."

After a few seconds Jon lay down, put his head on Sherloc's shoulder. He placed his free arm over Sherloc's waist. Sherloc slid his hand under Jon's so he'd be able to take his pulse if he felt the need to.

"I haven't told anyone," he said quietly. "You're right, I do check your heartbeat. I didn't even know why I felt the need to, but now it makes sense..."

"I'm listening," Sherloc placed a kiss on Jon's head.

"As you know I fractured my skull. I was unconscious for a few days. When I came to they asked me what I remembered, meaning from before I lost consciousness."

"And?"

"I did remember, from before. - Erm,..." Jon cleared his throat, "this is difficult."

"Take your time..."

Jon was quiet for a minute, then cleared his throat again. He sighed, was quiet for another minute.

"I'm here," Sherloc reassured him by placing another kiss on Jon's head.

"Right,... So,... Erm," he licked his lips, "it must have happened some time while I was unconscious. I saw a newspaper page. What jumped out at me were four names, three of which I recognized, just spelled slightly differently. Your first name ended with 'ck', your brother's was with 'c' only, mine also had an 'h'. The fourth was only a last name starting with 'M', so I don't know whether it was a man's or a woman's, I don't want to spell it out."

"Interesting," Sherloc commented. "Did you glean anything about circumstances from this newspaper page?"

"No. I think it was strictly to point out the different spelling of names."

Sherloc could not imagine Jon changing so obviously just from having seen names spelled differently. "What else happened? You saw something else?" he encouraged Jon to go on.

"Yes. There was this man, John Watson, with an 'h', from the newspaper page, he looked just like me. I was kind of experiencing things through him there... Anyways,..." Jon sighed again, "he was on his cell, looking up at Sherlock - with 'ck', looked just like you by the way - who was standing right on the edge of the roof of a multi-story building. - It's... He said, 'Goodbye, John.' I said 'No, don't.', shouted his name as I watched him fall," Jon paused, 'It was _horrible!_ ' remained unsaid.

"I couldn't get to him right away, a small group of people had gathered where he lay. There was a lot of blood from his head, I took his pulse - couldn't feel it - his eyes were open... then we were separated."

"I'm sorry you experienced this," Sherloc pulled Jon close to him.

Jon pressed a kiss on Sherloc's chest as he placed his fingers on Sherloc's wrist to take his pulse. Sherloc felt his shoulder getting wet as Jon began to cry.

"You know, I _know_ John loves Sherlock, and Sherlock loves John. I felt it. Definitely!" he sniffled. "But up until that point neither of them had told the other. It's a fucking _tragedy!_ " Jon sobbed clutching at Sherloc.

Sherloc's eyes were filled with tears as well, some ran down his cheeks. He kept quiet for a while until Jon appeared to calm down, then reached over to his night table, grabbed a tissue and placed it in Jon's hand. Jon wiped at his eyes with it and also used it to wipe up some of his tears and mucus from his nose off Sherloc's shoulder, then tossed it on Sherloc's side of the bed. Finally he sighed.

"Thanks for listening. Do you believe me?" he asked.

"That you experienced this while you were unconscious? Yes, I do. I have no reason to doubt you."

Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "What does it mean, though?"

"I don't know," Sherloc frowned. "You said you recognized three of the four names. So the man or woman you called 'M' you haven't met yet. Since three of the four names are spelled only slightly different, do you think you would recognize that name if it also was spelled slightly different?"

Jon nodded.

"Can you tell me the fourth name?"

Jon hesitated. "Maybe there's a reason I haven't met this person yet."

"If you don't tell me the name, how do you know that I haven't met this person before I met you?"

"I don't want to say it. Do you have a piece of paper?"

Sherloc pulled his arm out from under Jon's head, leaned towards his night table and retrieved a notepad and pen from the drawer, handed them to Jon.

Jon looked at the paper for a second, pursed his lips, then wrote down 'Moriarty'. He stabbed with the pen at the name, saying, "Somehow I don't like this name. At. All," before handing the pad back to Sherloc.

"I have not met someone with this or a similar name," Sherloc said looking serious. "But, should we meet someone going by this name we can exercise caution. Thank you for telling me," Sherloc placed the pen and notepad on his night table, then lay down again to embrace Jon.

"I studied chemistry, not physics. Apparently there are different theories about time, space, reality, the universe... Not my area, really. But... Do you have an opinion on whether it was just a dream, or whether Sherlock, with 'ck', and John, with an 'h', really exist? Rest assured _I_ do not plan to jump off any roof!"

"I'm not sure... I mean, of course I've thought about it. When he, John, tried to get to Sherlock, I felt like out of my body, it felt surreal, probably because John was in shock." Jon felt miserable revisiting the scene.

"Is it possible that Sherlock survived?"

"I can't say. It was an older building, the ones with the tall ceilings. He fell at least four stories... Like I said, we, I mean they, were separated. I only saw it up until then. - Of course I've wondered, if he exists, what if he survived? Maybe he was unconscious, like I was with my fractured skull, or in a coma, hasn't woken up yet?" For Jon it was painful to contemplate this. "I think John believed he was dead, because he was not able to feel a hearbeat when he took his pulse on his wrist. - Maybe that's why I was taking your pulse and listening to your heartbeat."

"You're a doctor. You know what the criteria to declare someone dead are. People have fallen from greater heights and survived..."

Jon nodded.

"Would it help _you_ if we accept the possibility that he may have survived?"

"If he did, he may have severe medical issues as a consequence of that fall," Jon put his hand over his eyes.

"Is one possibility 'better' or easier to bear than the other: have possibly severe medical issues to deal with, or be dead?"

This was a heavy, sobering topic. They both sighed.

"I could need some fresh air. Would you like to come along for a walk?" Sherloc suggested. He certainly did not want to leave Jon by himself after their conversation.

"Probably a good idea, fresh air, think about and see something else," Jon agreed.

"I love you," Sherloc said, kissing him softly on the lips.

"I love you, too," Jon tightened his embrace on Sherloc.

"Do you think they would have eventually said that to each other?"

"I do," Jon started crying again. - He needed several more tissues to wipe up all the tears and mucus he left on Sherloc's shoulder.

ooo

"I'll make us some tea before we go out," Sherloc offered while Jon went to go have a shower.

"Thanks, I won't be long," Jon called from behind the bathroom door.

Sherloc got himself dressed quickly, tore the page with Moriarty's name from the notepad. After putting the kettle on, he proceeded to burn the page in the fireplace. He poured their cups of tea, carried them to the coffee table.

Jon's eyes and nose were still a little bit red, but overall he looked relieved when he joined Sherloc on the couch.

"Tea, lovely...," Jon reached for his cup.

"Hmm, I agree. I burned that page, by the way. I want to take the ashes along and get rid of them somewhere."

"Sounds good to me. What do you want to do for supper?" Jon inquired.

"There's this new East Indian restaurant we could go to after our walk," Sherloc suggested.

When they were finished with their tea - Sherloc only drank half of his, he liked the taste better when Jon made it, actually - he carried the mugs to the kitchen, then put the small amount of cooled ashes into an envelope, which he put in his coat pocket.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Jon put the medical journal he had started to read in the meantime down. They put on their coats and headed out to the park nearby.

"Here's a good place to get rid of these ashes," Sherloc said as they were crossing a bridge over moving water. He let go of Jon's hand, retrieved the envelope. After checking from where the wind blew they stood on the appropriate side of the bridge to make sure nothing of the ash would touch them.

"Here goes," his hands reached over the railing, opened the envelope, tilted and shook it to get the ashes to fall out. Next, he tore up the envelope into little bits, watched thoughtfully and determinedly as they fell into the water as well.

"Thanks, Sherloc." Jon, who had been watching the ash and envelope dumping, took his hand, squeezed it and held on. "Let's go on."

There on that bridge, Sherloc sincerely prayed, "Thank you, God, for sending me Jon."

ooo

Several months later Sherloc proposed.

Jon replied, "Yes, Sherloc, of course."

ooo

"M" never showed.

 ** __LOVE PREVAILS__**


End file.
